A Matter of Trust
by shamita08
Summary: Sylar thinks Peter doesn't trust him, so Peter has to proof him otherwise - Sylar/Peter Slash


My first Heroes and Sylar/Peter Fanfiction :D I really love them as a pairing and this story was inspired y a picture of _blishfan_ on _livejournal_. I'm sorry, but I don't know how to make a link. If someone knows I would be happy to hear ^^

I rated it K+ because I think T would be too much, but if someone thinks otherwise I can change it. Oh and english is not my native language, so I bet you'll find some mistakes .

Heroes is not at all mine. If it were it wouldn't end this way :D

Well, have fun with my story :)

xXx

**A matter of trust**

After all the time in the nightmare the relationship – could he even call it relationship? – between Sylar and Peter became better. Well, not awesome, but at least not hateful. Peter forgave Sylar, yes, but the anger of Nathan's death wouldn't let him go. He couldn't imagine being friends with the former villain. Not immediately, at least.

Still, Sylar had nowhere to go and he needed to lay low, so Peter offered him to stay at his apartment for some time. It was just, because Sylar deserved a second chance, Peter said, but in his mind he had to admit that it would be weird to be alone after having him around for five years. So Sylar stayed.

Four months later, you could say they became, if not really friends, then friendly. So it was natural for Sylar to care for him, when Peter ran a fever. The problem with the situation was that Peter still had his doubts about the former villain's intentions. So when Sylar took the damp clothe to put it on the Petrelli's forehead and his finger's grazed his skin, he automatically tensed.

"What's wrong?" Sylar's voice sounded worried, and Peter regretted his reaction to the simple touch. Still, he felt uneasy with the other's hands so close.

"Nothing." He reached up and gently removed the hand from his head, holding the piece of clothing himself.

Something like realization crossed Sylar's face and he knitted his eyebrows together. "I understand." With these words, he stood up and left the room, only coming back to check on Peter a few more time, but staying in the doorway, anywhere but close to the Petrelli.

In the night, Peter woke up to the sound of shifting. Frowning, he got up, feeling only slightly dizzy and walked into the living room. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he located a figure standing by his front door. "Sylar?" he asked.

The figure turned around. "Peter? You should stay in bed." Worry laced his voice, but it sounded a bit bitter.

Peter ignored his command. "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving." The former villain answered bluntly.

"What?" The young Petrelli was confused. "Why?"

He heard a sigh. "I never should have come hear in the first place, Peter. You don't really want me hear."

"But I asked you to." Peter took a few steps forward.

"Yes, because you wanted to keep an eye on me." The bitter tone was back. "I can assure you, that won't be necessary anymore."

"Sylar…" Not really knowing what to say, Peter sighed. "Come on, don't be stupid, Sylar. Where will you go?"

"I'll find something." When he saw that the Petrelli wanted to retort something, he interrupted him. "Peter, do you really think I didn't notice how you tensed when I barely touched you? You may have forgiven me, but you don't trust me. It's better when I go."

Peter widened his eyes a bit. That was it? "But…"

"No… I was meant to stay just for a while, anyway. It's time for me to go, Peter." Sylar turned around again and opened the door. "Maybe we will see each other again sometime." He mumbled and was gone the next second with the thud of the closing door.

Peter stood in shock, still not really realizing what had happened. He was gone. Sylar was gone. He stepped back until the back of his knees hit the coach and let himself fall onto it. Letting out the breath he didn't realize he has been holding, he closed his eyes. Groaning he stood up again, wanting terribly to kick something, but realizing that the only furniture in the room was the couch and the couch table and both things where to hard for his unclad feet.

What the hell was wrong with him? This was Sylar. So what if he went away? It wasn't important. It shouldn't be important. Except that it was and it hurt. It really, really hurt. Peter didn't want him to leave. No, he wanted him to stay by his side. And even if this sounded totally gay, he wanted him to stay for damn forever.

"God!" He stomped into his room and yanked a few clothes out, pulling them on. "He thinks I don't trust him, oh, I'll show him how much I trust him. Stupid bastard." He mumbled while half jogging out of his flat, taking his mobile on the way. Dialling a number, he put it to his ear, walking out of his apartment building. Because the one thing the former villain forgot, was that Peter still had his number.

After a while Sylar picked up with a sigh. "Peter I told you, I…"

"Oh, shut up, Gabriel." With satisfaction, he heard the intake of breath. It was the first time, Peter called him by his real name. "Come to the X Street and into the alley between number 47 and 48."

"What, why?" He didn't answer the question, but hung up. He was sure Sylar – _Gabriel – _would come.

xXx

When Gabriel arrived in the alley, he looked around, but found nothing. But then a loud crack made him wince and he looked at the broken mobile phone lying on the ground. With a bad feeling he looked up and sure enough spotted Peter on the rooftop.

"You think I don't trust you? Watch that." The young Petrelli shouted from the top. He spread his arms – and felt like the very first time when he flew. It was to show Nathan. The same street, the same alley. But this time he didn't try to proof something to himself, he tried to proof something to Gabriel.

Whose heart stopped when he saw that Peter stepped over the edge. "God dammit, Peter!" He frantically looked around until he stopped spinning long enough to remember that he could fly. He looked up where Peter was still very much falling and lifted himself into the air. When he reached the young Petrelli he saw that he was grinning at him. The bastard was grinning when he almost had a heart attack. "You idiot!"

Grabbing him around the waist, he steadied himself and shot higher into the air. When he heard the laughter, he stopped, right over New York in the middle of night. Peter had his arms around his neck and his foot on Gabriel's, grinning at him. "See, I told you, I trust you." All his anger just vanished and he sighed shakily in relief. The Petrelli was safe.

"You nearly killed me, Peter." He mumbled, tightening his grip around the other's waist. "When I saw you falling my heart stopped, you idiot."

The insult sounded more like an endearment and Peter's grin turned into a smile. "So you do care about me"

Gabriel frowned. "Of course, I do. You should know that."

The smile disappeared. "And yet, you left me alone."

"Peter, you… I… I couldn't even touch you, without making you tense. I couldn't stay with you like that, because…" He stopped when Peter brought his face closer to his and gulped.

"Because you want to touch me, don't you, Gabe?" he whispered into his ear, causing him to shiver. "You like me, Gabriel. You really like me."

"No." The Petrelli pulled his head back to look into Gabriel's eyes, a little bit doubt in his eyes. "I don't like you, Peter. I love you."

The smile turned back in full force and Peter pulled himself up a bit to capture Gabriel's lips in their first kiss. The former villain's eyes widened a bit, but quickly closed as he tilted his head to the side, deepening it. Once they pulled apart to breathe, Peter buried his face into his neck. "I love you, too."


End file.
